Like an house of cards
by love-Romione-4ever
Summary: Ron comes back from a mission that has gone wrong. Hermione reappears after seven years of absence. Destiny will bring them back together again and force them to face what they had left behind as an unexpected surprise makes their separates ways a single one.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey there! I'm back with a new story which I can't take the credit for: I'm currently translating my favorite French fanfiction in colaboration with the author, angelique444. I hope you'll like it as much as I did!**

**Disclaimer: This story isn't mine; it's a translation from angelique444. The original title is ''Comme un château de cartes''. I don't own anything about Harry Potter; all of this (books, movies, idea, etc) is the property of JK Rowling and others. All of the characters and the places are not mine.**

**Summary: Ron comes back from a mission that has gone wrong. Hermione reappears after seven years of absence. Destiny will bring them back together again and force them to face what they had left behind as an unexpected surprise makes their separates ways a single one.**

**Like an house of cards**

Chapter 1: _Caraghe_

Several houses were on fire. The devastation of the tiny village weighed heavily on the conscience of its habitants, all gathered in front of the disaster. They were watching as the monuments that had always been part of their lives and history burnt, their faces proud, defeated or tearful. The town hall, ageless, was in blackened pieces on the dusty ground. The library, which had contained authentic writings from the most famous wizards of the world, was no more. The steeple, still licked by the copper flames, was about to collapse. Homes that had been filled with memories, laughter and sadness had also been destroyed by the fire, adding up to the already heavy losses. Everything of value seemed to have fall under the destructive power of the Rebels. The wind was blowing strongly, scattering red sparks and snowy grey ashes all over the village, taking away the dispossessed wizards' silent screams. Clouds of suffocating smoke were rising up to the sky and escaping quickly, higher and further, towards the ocean.

Amongst the villagers, a man was standing out from the crowd, his body straight and proud, at least a head taller than his companions. Like everybody else, he was covered with soot and burns. Like everybody else, he had a sour taste in his mouth. His eyes, of the deepest blue, were emotionless; nothing, except the whitened knuckles on his clenched fists, could betray that inside a poignant rage was torturing him.

A hand was gently placed on his shoulder. So far, people had stayed away from him, distrustful, but this old man, crushed by the weight of the years, found through his sadness a little place for sympathy.

-'You did what you could. What was supposed to happen happened. We can't go back.'

Ron bent his head without looking at his interlocutor. He sighed.

-'I wish I could have avoided such a disaster. This was not supposed to happen this way.'

The old man withdrawn his hand and laid it on his cane in front of him.

-'Future doesn't hold certainties, young man. Plans are exactly like houses of cards; sometimes they stand, but sometimes, they collapse.'

The redhead ran his hand through his hair. For Merlin's beard, he was shaking. The adrenaline was wearing off now and his body was feeling the tiredness more than ever. He took a cigarette and lit it. He inhaled deeply and breathed out the smoke slowly. His shirt was ruined; he would have to buy another one.

-'My houses are always strong', Ron replied with a grim smile. 'They never collapse.'

The old man chuckled.

-'You should never say never. Here's the proof.'

Ron finished his cigarette, crushed it on the ground and took a look around. No, his houses never collapsed.

The fire was dying now. They had managed to save a part of the village but the majority of it was still burning in front of them. The Rebels were gone, seeing that their plans had been foiled, but Ron had managed to capture three of them which were now lying on the ground several feet away. The Aurors had arrived and were taking over. He was done here.

-'There was way more than doodles in here.' said the old man, without great emotions. 'There were our ancestor's writings, the elves, and the secret of their magic... You know, Caraghe means ''holder of the secret'' in old elvish. The elves, during their decline, saw that wizards were growing in numbers and power and so decided to abandon their magic and hided it here. From that moment on, their children had no powers. They married first between themselves and then with wizards, adopting their magic. It was a great sacrifice for the good of this world, as it was too great of a secret for such a small place.'

Ron didn't reply; he knew all that, of course, since he had come here to discover this magic. However, hearing the legend from this husky, broken voice seemed to give it much more depth. The redhead shivered. This old man seemed to believe in this legend not as if it was only a myth but as if it was an unquestionable history fact.

-'Whoever got this treasure have the world's destiny in his hands.' he continued in a deep and grave tone. 'It contains too much power, a too great magic, to be controlled by wizards. No human has the strength to control it.'

-'The price was very high for the finding of that parchment, 'confessed Ron, contemplating the mess he had caused. 'It was a dangerous object. It's better for everyone that it's destroyed... The fire took care of that.'

The old man flinched. He cast a suspicious look at the young man but only saw the shadow of a smile on his lips before it disappeared. His eyes then went to his holed shirt and his soot covered arms; a wound was still fresh on his left forearm.

-'You're bleeding.' He pointed out in a strange voice. 'Your arm: did you get injured?'

Ron glanced at the thick reddish line that scarred his skin. There was blood everywhere.

-'It's nothing.' he grimaced. 'a misadventure with the Rebels.'

A silence settled between them for a moment. The old man relied slightly on his cane.

-'You're something, son, really.'

Ron finally turned to him. He examined the wrinkled face, covered by large furrows. His cracked hands were resting on the head of the tiger that adorned his cane. Two amber stones acted as eyes and were reflecting the orange glow of the flames.

-'I really don't understand what you mean by that', Ron replied carefully. 'Can you please excuse me, sir, but I need to go to my superior now.'

He walked away, towards his Ministry colleagues, where he found .

-'Weasley' groaned his boss. 'I hope you have a good explanation for this failure. This mission was so simple!'

-'I planned it inadequately, I'm sorry.'

-'An inadequate planning? Inadequate planning!' He almost yelled, flushed with anger. 'Don't you understand what the Ministry just lost? This secret was precious! More precious than anything that exists on this earth!'

Ron lit another cigarette and shrugged his shoulder.

-'Maybe it was too precious. It was a dangerous weapon and I'm relieved that it's destroyed.'

's face inflated even more. His eyes seemed about to pop out of their sockets and were bloodshot. It wasn't a beautiful sight, but Ron was used to it. After all, he had worked for him for almost seven years now.

-'You can't decide such things! Your mission was to find that damn parchment and take it back to the Ministry, safe and sound!'

The young man slowly exhaled the smoke, still calm. Why fight back? Bentam often had the furious looks of a mad dog, but never bit anyone.

-'The Rebels got in the game, I couldn't save the parchment. It burned.'

burst into an evil laugher. He grabbed his employee by the arm and led him a little further, away from eavesdroppers.

-'You know as well as I do that the parchment couldn't burn. The elvish magic cannot be destroyed by fire, it's ridiculous. Find a better excuse, Weasley, because you'll soon say goodbye to your job.'

The redhead sneered.

-'That's impossible, I'm the best,' he replied, amused. 'You can't do without me.'

-'Of course I can! Don't play with me, Weasley. Count this as a warning.'

-'Listen, Bentam, I can't help it if nobody else on this fucking planet have the guts to execute your suicide missions. We both know that I am the only idiot who accept them.'

He knew his boss couldn't contradict him because it was the simple truth; nobody was stupid enough to take those kinds of missions except him. Dozens of times, he almost died. Dozens of times, he got out of it alive.

Henri Bentam took a deep breath and asked the question once again.

-'Where is the parchment?'

Ron rolled his eyes.

-'It burned, I've already told you.'

-'Don't make fun of me! The parchment COULDN'T burn!'

The young man threw his cigarette angrily on the ground and crushed it heavily.

-'So you know what that means?' retorted the redhead. 'It was a fake. The parchment doesn't exist! The habitants of this village venerated this piece of paper like if it was the most precious treasure of the earth. Some even died for it. But I've seen it burned with my own eyes. I saw it catch on fire as fast as a piece of paper would. And I'm not the only one; the Rebels also saw it. This entire mission was a waste of time and has caused the death of many wizards. So, I'll repeat it one more time: the parchment was a fake, it _burnt_. It flew up in the air in a cloud of ashes and smoke. Period.'

paced nervously in front of him. He cussed several times, confused.

-'But we did have trusted sources! Are you sure that the parchment hadn't been replaced?'

-'It was under constant supervision by the town guards, me and the Rebels. If someone had tried to make a switch, he wouldn't have had the time to take a step in the chamber before one of us shot him down with a spell.'

He was annoyed now. He wanted to go home, take a shower and forget all about this adventure. Things hadn't gone as he had wanted them to go, that much was true. His plan had gone wrong; he hadn't been planning on casualties. This fire, which, in the end, had become his solution, had however killed a lot of people. Even if he always had carte blanche in his missions, he wasn't used to sacrificing wizards and muggles.

-'You don't think that there's a tiny little chance that-'

-'No!' exclaimed Ron, exasperated. 'We were all wrong, from beginning to end, and now look what this has come to: many died for nothing! We should go help them instead of persisting on finding something that has never existed!'

He was tired. He wanted to go home and see his family. It had been several months since he first started planning this day and he was sick of it now.

coughed uneasily.

-'OK. Ok. We'll call some clean-up units in to fix this mess. And you, you should take a long week off before coming back to work. Even better: take two. Maybe you should think about getting a new job, you're getting old for this.'

-'I'm only 27 and I am the best. I told you: you can't do without me.'

-'Whatever, you're still taking two weeks off. Maybe I'll have a quiet mission for you until then. Now, go take care of that arm, boy, or you'll end up losing all your blood.'

On that, he took off, preventing Ron from protesting. The redhead groaned; he didn't like quiet missions. He loved to be in the heat of the moment. He loved the adrenaline rush that pumped his heart hard and pulsated through his veins. To put his life in danger had always given him an exciting thrill, as if escaping death made him stronger. As if that moment when his life was hanging by a thread was a hard drug that he could not resist. He was addicted to danger.

However, at this moment, he was happy to go home. He hadn't had any real vacations in years! He was already thinking about the good it would do him to relax in his house without any wizards trying to skin him alive. He would finally have a proper meal and a long night of undisturbed sleep. Ron took a look at his hand, covered with burns, and at his arm, where the wound glowed red. It was hurting now.

-'It's a nasty looking injury you have here, son,' the old man said, joining him. 'You should take care of it before it gets infected.'

Ron slightly smiled, but didn't answer. He was playing a dangerous game and this man, he knew it, wasn't an ordinary old guy. He needed to be careful.

-'Will it come back to us?' asked the man with a penetrating stare.

The redhead shrugged.

-'We need to let the dust settle. Again, I'm sorry, but I have to go.'

As he started to walk away, the man grabbed his arm with his cane.

-'This magic is way more powerful than anything you could imagine,' he whispered between his rotten teeth. 'Never forget that.'

-'Ehhh... Sure.'

Ron unhooked himself and quickened his pace as he headed toward the health care tent. He had a weird sensation in his stomach; behind him, the old man muttered something but he couldn't hear what he was saying.

-'Hi, come and sit on this chair, please.'

A nurse, dressed in a white wizard dress, indicated a chair with her free hand, the other holding a parchment and quill.

-'Your injury seems deep,' she added as she saw the blood on his arm. 'Cut by a piece of glass, isn't it?'

-'Yes, yes, exactly.'

She smiled at him and showed him the chair again.

-'I'll take care of you in minute.'

She slipped away behind a cloth wall, which concealed the wounded's unceasing complains. Ron shivered. He needed to go home; he hated nurses, hospitals and everything that came with it. He hated to be vulnerable, even more in front of a woman. As soon as she was out of sight, he rummaged through the many bottles and jars on the table next to him, found disinfectant pomade, clean bandages and before sixty seconds had gone by his arm had been generously coated by the greasy mixture and covered by the white linen. It had to do for now.

-'Weasley!'

Damn. Bentam. Ron didn't want to deal with his boss again so he shoved the pomade in his pocket and got out of the tent, putting on his brightest fake smile.

-'Thanks for the vacation. See you in two weeks!'

Henri Bentam tried to reach him in time, but it was too late. He opened his mouth to protest, but Ron was already disapparating, waving him goodbye.

**That's it! I hope you liked it! Please, review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here it is, the second chapter! I know it took a while, but we were busy... Anyway, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: This story isn't mine; it's a translation from angelique444. The original title is ''Comme un château de cartes''. I don't own anything about Harry Potter; all of this (books, movies, idea, etc) is the property of JK Rowling and others. All of the characters and the places are not mine.**

Chapter 2: Back home

Well, he had to admit it was a rough way to say goodbye. Not that he really cared.

Ron apparated on a country road. Away, the sun shone with all its brightness between the hills. Home. It was so good to be home again. He couldn't count the times he and his brothers had played together on this land, swimming in the lake, playing hide and seek in the forest, running from one place to another always finding exciting new games to try. And, in the middle of it all, stood the Burrow. Crooked and unlevelled as it was, Ron could only smile at the sight of it.

He knew he couldn't show himself to his parents looking like this –covered with soot, blood, burns and dirt – without giving them a stroke so he took a little path on his right and followed it for a good ten minutes. His footsteps echoed in the quiet landscape, screeching the hard soil. It was obvious that it hadn't rain in days; the grass was of a yellowish color and the wind carried clouds of dust that made it hard to breathe. He knew these hot summer days, these moments when nature burnt under the glowing sun and he closed his eyes for a few seconds, letting it sink into his skin.

Then, further down the road, he saw what he was looking for. Ron's heart leaped painfully at the view; the last time he had been here the house had been in ruins. It was like new now, a secret and peaceful haven for his sister and famous best friend. He had helped rebuilding it at first but his mission had taken him to the other side of the world before the end of the renovations. It was amazing how a few months had changed so many things. The redhead slowly climbed up the few stairs leading to the door and knocked.

No answer. He knocked again, looking through the window. It was dark and quiet; Harry and Ginny were probably at the Burrow. Ron unlocked the door with his wand, sure that they wouldn't mind if he took a shower while they were gone. He stayed a long time under the burning water, cleaning his body from the dirt and the memories. Ron sighed heavily, wishing some of the water could wash away the regrets he shouldn't be having at that moment. There was no place for them in his mind or his life. This mission was over. Another one would begin. Period.

He borrowed a jean and a long sleeved shirt, making sure that all of his injuries were hidden. They were a bit small since Harry was a few inches shorter than he was but even with a charm he couldn't do much to fix them. It would have to do for now. He still had a few clothing items at the Burrow, he could change if it annoyed him too much, but right now the only thing he could think about was that he was starving and that only a mile separated him from his mother's divine meals.

His heart was pounding in his chest as he walked back to his childhood house. He had missed his family while he was away; had his father been promoted as he had expected? Had his mother changed her mind on becoming a brunette? Had Georges' wife given birth to their last one yet? Was there already another one on the way for one of his brothers' wives? It wouldn't surprise him…after all, his family was well known for its fertility.

Ron stopped on the front porch. He could hear laughs and screams through the door. He even recognized Fleur's high-pitched French as she tried to deal with her quarrelling daughters.

For Merlin's beard, it was like he hadn't seen them in ages!

-'Is there anybody in here?'

The young man had stepped in without knocking. He hadn't wanted his coming to cause some kind of "the lost son finally returning home after months of absence" drama but, as always, his arrival provoked quite a scene. Loud shouts resounded from the kitchen and in a matter of seconds several redheads poured into the living room. Mrs Weasley threw herself on her son, crying, while Mr Weasley smiled widely. He had grown older, Ron noticed, his red hair were striped with more white than he remembered. Behind his father all of his brothers were staring at him with bewilderment, talking excitedly and incoherently. Georges had a sleeping baby in his arms, undisturbed by the noises.

-'What a beautiful surprise!' Bill exclaimed as he came forward. 'You remembered you old brother's birthday, Ronnie?'

-'Ehhhh... Yes, of course,' Ron lied as he hugged him. 'You're what, 80 years old? Hi, Dad. Hey Fred.'

The little boy, named Fred in honour of the lost twin, was jumping in front of him to be the first to be taken. He had grown so much! Could he really be only 4 years old?

-'Did you mess around while I was gone?' Ron asked, lifting his nephew in his arms. 'Did you make your father go insane?'

The boy smiled timidly, unsure of the answer he should give. Georges nodded for him and Fred blushed deep red.

-'That's great, keep it up,' encouraged Ron, putting the kid back on the ground. 'You're a good boy.'

-'That's cruel,' groaned Georges. 'His mother and I already have enough troubles with Lydia. Who would have thought that my only daughter would be my most exasperating child?'

The said girl was standing right beside the door, an impish smile on her lips. She was 7, if he recalled well, but her eyes betrayed a sharp intelligence.

-'Oh Ron, you must be starving!' said Molly, wiping off her tears. 'Come and sit at the table, sweetie, we were about to have lunch. Make room, children, give him some space so he can breathe!'

The redhead smiled sheepishly, hoping that it wasn't the rumblings of his stomach that had betrayed how hungry he was. As all the little Weasleys retreated to the kitchen, Ginny and Harry came forward to welcome him.

-'Well, well, well, what a surprise.' commented his sister casually, but Ron could see that her eyes were shiny with joy. 'We missed you, you were gone a long time.'

He squeezed her tightly in his arms, a little awkwardly because of her expending belly. He had been right; the last years had proved to him that not a month could go by without one of the women of his family being pregnant.

-'Hey, isn't this one of my shirt?' Harry noticed, frowning. 'What happened to it?

Ron looked down. 'I've never been good at fixing clothes…Sorry. Did I ruin it? I would gladly get changed and give it back to you but there is something important I must do beforehand.'

-'Let me guess. Eat.' Replied Ginny, rolling her eyes. 'You will never change, Ron.'

-'Nor do I want to. Food is life. And right now if I don't get some in me I'll swear I won't live through the next hour.'

The table was already set up when he came in the kitchen. His mother had cooked all morning and the room was filled with the sweet aromas he knew so well: hot potatoes with butter, chives, bacon and sour cream, steamed vegetable greens, pork chop, meat loaf, ragout, chicken, gravy, butternut squash soup and, last but not least, freshly baked bread. His mouth was watering at the sight of that feast.

-'Man, it feels good to eat something else than beef jerky and canned beans,' sighed Ron when he had finished his first serving and was helping himself to the second. 'I wish I could learn to cook like that, it would make my life easier.'

-'Don't overeat, I need you this afternoon.' Warned Ginny, whose plate was as big as his. 'I need you to check on my changing table, something is wrong with it and not one of my unskilled brothers here wants to help me. They tell me to buy another one instead but I want this one.'

Ron shrugged. 'I have two weeks off. I'll have plenty of time to fix it, don't worry.'

Harry gave him a little nudge. 'Come as soon as you can,' he whispered. 'She's insomniac about it; she's completely obsessed with the baby's room and this stupid changing table.'

Seeing the despair in his friend's eyes, Ron burst into laughing and agreed on coming this very afternoon.

-'Did you read the newspaper this morning?' asked Bill, suddenly serious. 'Apparently, Hermione has canceled one of her press conferences for unknown causes. It's strange, isn't it?'

Ron chocked on a pork chop. Hermione. It had been so long since he last heard her name.

-'Hermione? Canceling a conference? That hasn't happened in what, 4 years? You know, when she got pneumonia after her trip to the Antartic. Even then, she was pressured into canceling or else she would have gotten up there and coughed up her speech until death followed.' Commented Georges.

-'Poor girl, she's overworking herself!' said Mrs Weasly disapprovingly. 'She does so much, it is no surprise if she gets sick. The body needs to rest from time to time!'

Hermione... Ron hadn't seen her in a long time. A very long time. He had lost her in less than a year after they had left Hogwarts. She had chosen to travel all over the world for her studies in Foreign Relations and if at the beginning she often wrote to Harry and to him, after some time the owls became rarer. Then they only got official birthday and Christmas cards. And, one day, nothing. She had totally disappeared from their lives. Well, not completely. With the years, Hermione had climbed the ladder of popularity and had become someone important for the Minister of Magic. So it was quite impossible to forget about her when her face was printed all over the wizard world and in all the newspapers. Ron didn't mind; he did not pay attention to all of this. He had become expert in ignoring everything that had to do with her. He had closed that drawer a long time ago and had buried it deep within himself to never open it again.

-'I got a letter from her last week,' said Ginny, thoughtful. Of all of them, Ginny was the only one who still kept in touch with her. 'She's fine. She did not mention anything about being sick.'

-'She wouldn't have told you,' Ron replied curtly. 'She is too proud for that.'

A silence settled. Everybody knew that Ron and Hermione had gone out together before and that the redhead had refused to talk about her since then.

-'Oh, have you seen that the Butterbeer's price has risen?' exclaimed Mrs Weasley to change the subject. 'Again!'

Even though whisky had replaced butterbeer a long time ago, all the Weasley brothers gladly commented on it, aware that this topic was safer in Ron's presence than talking about Hermione.

At tea time, Harry and Ron ended up sitting on the couch aside from everyone, catching up on what had happened since the last time he had visited. Most of the talk turned around Ginny being a pain as a pregnant woman, as Ron understood under all the sweet words of his best friend, and he couldn't help laughing at how hormones could alter his sister's personality.

-'I swear, sometimes, I need to get up in the middle of the night to bring her ice cream and chocolate cake.' Whispered Harry, making sure she was out of earshot. 'And she won't let me have one little tiny bite of it.'

-'She shouldn't eat that much, she seemed to have doubled in weight.' Ron said, eyeing her.

-'Don't you dare to tell her!' exclaimed the future father, alarmed. 'She's going to kill you! The other day I made the mistake to say that her favorite shirt didn't fit her anymore and I had to sleep on the couch for three days.'

Ron snickered. Ginny had always had a little temper. It was only normal, after all; she had been raised with six brothers older than her, all of them having tempers of their own.

-'That being said, she is still beautiful to me.' Harry said with a little smile. 'And I still can't believe that I'll have a baby. It's really weird.'

Ron didn't answer. Deep down, he felt a little jealous. Yes, Harry deserved to live a peaceful life with a wife and lots of babies after all he had been through, but he couldn't help but wished he had all his best friend had. Their lives had changed so much since Voldemort had died and if Harry had escaped all of this with a few nightmares and a heavy conscience, Ron felt that he still had to fight every day for a world who will never be right.

-'I'm organizing a baby shower for her next week,' he said in a low voice. 'I really want you to come. I don't want to be the only man there.'

-'No, no... I really don't want to be in the middle of hysteric women debating which diaper is more absorbent. Forget about me. You need to face it all by yourself, like a big boy.'

-'Don't do that to me! You can't refuse, you have to come.'

-'No.'

-'Yes.'

-'No.'

-'Yes.'

-'For Merlin, no!'

-'There will be food.'

Silence. Ron thought about the deal for a minute.

'Who's cooking?' he asked warily.

-'Everybody brings something. It will be like a giant buffet.'

It was a tempting offer.

-'Fine,' Ron gave up. 'I'll be there.'

Harry seemed satisfied. The redhead took a sip his "slightly" whisky flavored tea and contemplated the scene before him. It felt strange to be surrounded by all of his family, all of them happy, loving, caring, laughing. His brothers kept slapping him on the back and telling bad jokes, each of them having to explain vaguely what they meant to their children. It was weird to see them as fathers and not as the boys they used to be in school, fooling around, playing tricks, making his life Hell on Earth. They all seemed so…grown up. Had he really been away for only a few months? Why hadn't he realized before that everyone had moved on and become a mature version of their old self?

-'Ron?' Molly timidly asked, afraid to bother him. 'I think there's going to be a little problem…You see, you haven't told me you were coming and it took me ages to sort everything out so everyone has a space to sleep this week. The only place left is here, in the living room, on the couch…But the kids wake up early and the little ones play here while we prepare breakfast.'

Damn it. His cozy bed and precious hours of sleep were gone in a matter of seconds.

-'Mrs Weasley, we have a bed for him at home,' Harry suggested, noticing his friend's despondent expression. 'Ginny and I would be happy to accommodate him.'

It was then agreed that Ron would sleep at Harry's and the redhead was so grateful he almost hugged him. He waited until Molly had returned to the kitchen –quite precipitately due to a suspect broken glass noise – to thank his friend warmly. As much as he liked this family reunion, spending the next week running after children was not really what he had expected.

It was already dark outside when he settled in the guest room, having fixed the changing table for the last hour, and at that moment he wanted nothing else but to sleep. Ron had taken a few clothes at the Burrow and was putting them in the dresser distractedly when Ginny showed up. She slowly sat down on the bed and waited. After a moment, he lost patience.

-'Are you going to stare at me like this for a long time? I know I'm cute but I'm your brother, don't forget it.'

-'Idiot,' she laughed, throwing a pillow at his head.

He caught it, laughing too, and then he let out a growl as he felt a sharp pain on his left forearm.

-'Are you OK?' asked Ginny worriedly. 'Are you injured?'

Ron shook his head, trying to smile. Merlin Almighty, it hurt like Hell.

-'Of course not, nobody can touch me.'

She wasn't convinced. She rose heavily and went to him, her face serious.

-'You're lying.' She said. 'Because I don't think this is ketchup.'

She pointed at his arm. He looked at it and saw that his injury had started to bleed again and that the bandage hadn't make it; an expending blood stain had appeared on his sleeve. He tried to hide it, but Ginny grabbed his hand and forced him to show it. Ron pulled a face.

-'It's nothing Gin. Let it go.'

She carefully lifted up the fabric and took off the bandage. It wasn't a beautiful sight; the wound was infected and a weird mixture of mud, dried blood, fresh blood and greenish pus was bubbling from it. This was not good at all.

-'Ron! This isn't nothing!' exclaimed Ginny, horrified. 'Why didn't you take care of it? You should have gone to the hospital! And how on earth did you manage to make it bubble? What did you put on it?'

The redhead quickly snatched away his hand and tried to put the bandage back, unsuccessfully. He gave up with a groan and threw the soiled linen into the garbage can near the bed. He had no doubt now that he shouldn't have "borrowed" the cream at the health care tent in Caraghe. He looked for it in his pocket and before he could do anything Ginny took it from his hand and read the description.

-'You didn't put that on your injury, did you?" she said, frowning.

-'I thought it was a disinfectant.' Ron breathed as the pain grew stronger.

His sister tried her best not to burst into laughter. 'Learn to read, Hercules, this is not a disinfectant. It's a cream against hemorrhoids.'

Ron closed his eyes for a moment, feeling utterly stupid. He could at least have read what was written on that little jar instead of assuming it was all disinfectant.

-'Damn it, Gin, don't you have something in that nurse bag of yours that could take the edge off at least?'

-'Yes, I do have something for you, Mr Invincible. You're lucky your little sister has many tricks up her sleeve or else you would be at St-Mungo's right now, getting laughed at by all the pretty nurses.'

-'Just…get on with it.'

-'I didn't hear you.'

Ron sighed exasperatedly. 'Please.'

-Good boy.'

She came back a little while after with a small leather bag, from which she took out a flask. Then she handed him a bottle of rum and he eyed it suspiciously.

'You asked me something to take the edge off.' She said, trusting it into his hand. 'Drink a good shot because it's going to be painful.'

He obeyed, wondering why she seemed to take so much pleasure into telling him this. Ginny carefully soaked a fresh cloth with the violet liquid and then squeezed it over his cut. It immediately began to foam.

Ron felt nothing at first but it wasn't long before he did; a million needles seemed to pierce his skin, digging right to the bone, and he cursed loudly as it grew even stronger, cleaning deep.

-'What's that thing?' he gasped when he finally could breathe. 'It's terrible! We should use it for torture, not as a curative potion.'

Once the injury was sponged, cleaned and stitched, Ginny wrapped a new bandage around his forearm.

-'There. Tomorrow I'll apply a cicatrizing potion. Meanwhile, you should sleep. You look horrible.'

-'Not as much as you,' yawned the redhead. 'Good night, sis. And thank you.'

-'Welcome home.' She replied with a smile.

As soon as she was out Ron shut the door and the light, undressed and fell on the bed. In less than a minute, he was out.

**I hope you liked it, please review, we would love to know your opinion!**


End file.
